“Release that tension—all that sexual angst,” her friend replied enigmatically.

“And exactly how am I going do that?”

Tania blushed when Elaine whispered her suggestion in Tania’s ear. Shaking her head, Tania dismissed the idea as ludicrous and probably a fantasy of her friend’s. Elaine was the last person Tania would have suspected about knowing of such things as tantric massages. Elaine went red-faced when Tania probed her about her personal experiences. Elaine claimed, perhaps too ardently, that it was another person she knew who had used those specialized services. Tania didn’t pushed her for the truth. She brushed off the suggestion that she should try herself, too embarrassed by the notion.

Three weeks later, drunk on wine at her cousin’s thirtieth birthday party and having failed to see anybody she fancied, the sexual frustration gnawed at her. Although men typically fawned after her in social settings, lapping up her sexy body and enticing words—which she would toss about with little judgment—they had nothing when it came to pleasing her in the bedroom. A frantic grope and it was done.

Lying in bed at night, the idea of an erotic massage ate away at her. It had been six months since the last time she had invited a man to her bed—a nobody she had met in a bar on a rare night out with some work colleagues, perhaps a little too drunk. She regretted the encounter. The sex had been pretty good—what she could remember of it. However, in the cold light of the morning, her companion had dressed, said his farewells and slipped his wedding ring back on. Tania had been mortified. Though not interested in being anyone’s wife, being somebody’s bit on the side was even worse. A moral pendulum had swung back at her and she had yelled at the smug man to get out of her flat.

The frustration grew inside. Masturbating with vibrating toys only seemed to make her situation even more pathetic and her orgasms were like whimpers in the night. She asked Elaine for the address of the massage parlor called Muratantra. A small, specialized service set up to provide solace and comfort to women just like Tania—workaholic, career-minded women with no time for meaningful relationships. Worse, no time even for pleasure.

Elaine texted the details without comment. The phone call, which took days for Tania to pluck up the courage to make, was handled with courtesy and discretion. Emails were sent, forms filled in and finally she made an appointment. Her first sensual massage was to be provided by a professional tantric masseur—a male masseur.

They recommended that she be shaven first. Tania didn’t want to do it herself, so she asked if they provided that service. The reply was a sweet, “Yes, ma’am.” It added to the time, but Tania understood it would heighten the experience. Then she asked if orgasms were permitted.

“Yes, ma’am. Naturally, we aim to give you a full release, if you’re capable. It isn’t the purpose of the massage. However, if it helps with tension…”

***

How to describe the first encounter of two potential lovers? The pivotal moment when the first words are spoken, eyes meet and features appraised – the creation of a mutual arena of discovery, where both characters explore and familiarise themselves with each other. What if it happened in the workplace, or at a party, perhaps a blind date, or a chance meeting in the street? Plenty of possibilities, but, how to make it special or unusual? How to add an element of adventure, risk-taking and temptation?

I remember a time when my job consumed each day and my personal life whizzed by in the background – poor thing, my love life, all neglected and far too busy to entertain. Not entirely true, I had fun, but it wasn’t a consistent thread in my life. I worked in a male dominated company, one where career took priority and you were measured by your future potential – how far could you go? Romance doesn’t establish a foothold when you’re too busy ticking off targets and being submerged in a pool of men doesn’t make them eligible, especially if they’re committed to their own goals.

This month’s theme is favourite body parts and how they can inspire creativity. A phobia and love affair with hands since childhood inspired Jaye Peaches’ latest novel Touched, which explores an erotic affair between a city girl and a Tantric masseur who connect through touch. Massage can unlock creativity and enable a shift in perspective and we love the idea of massaging words on the page. We can celebrate our hands through gesture and articulation, Second Skin jewellery, a wrist tattoo or painted nails…

What do you hope reader’s take away from this retelling of your story?

I’ve always been one of those crazy busy kind of people. I steam-roller my way through life, giving my best, and setting myself challenging goals. I didn’t truly think of the impact it had on me. It made me selfish, too. I’m not proud of that. Those ideas I had – making time for me and finding companionship – when it came to the crunch, I ditched, because it meant exposing my weaknesses and fears. The stupid jogging machine I bought collected cobwebs in the corner of the room, the parties I skipped, the one-night stands I endured. Do I have to say more?